


Moonlight

by xantissa



Series: Uncommon Allies [3]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Gen, mention of violence and torture off screen, tiny crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 11:20:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xantissa/pseuds/xantissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hardison delivers some bad news, Elliot reveals something about his past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> another fill for my promp post on LJ

Hardison sighed and climbed the last of the stairs as loudly as possible. He learned, a while ago, to make as much noise as possible while approaching Elliot in unfamiliar territory.   
From their client’s point of view, their work was glamorous and almost effortless, the results appearing like magic. The truth was that before those few last days that they managed to clinch their con, there was days often even weeks of research. Contrary to what TV might say, one couldn’t just find everything on the internet in a few moments. Yes, sure, there was a lot of data to be gathered by a talented hacker like himself but the truth was that was still very little. They still had to break into offices, into houses, steal their mark’s trash, pay off staff members and do some old fashioned tailing and observations.

This time the job wasn’t time sensitive but it was a damn logistical nightmare. The whole team was sprinkled over half the US tracking leads. He and Elliot were in New Mexico of all places, keeping watch on one of the buildings they suspected their mark was using as an important drop point. Elliot wasn’t happy about not looking after the rest of his flock, but since this was definitely the most dangerous part of their intelligence gathering he was stuck with Hardison, who was needed to extract info from a closed network that he couldn’t hack from anywhere else other than on site. 

Before they could break in they needed to get the rest of the intell then scram, as Hardison was sure he couldn’t make the hack untraceable.

It was midnight and even though Hardison wasn’t due for his shift for three more hours, he had things to talk to Eliot about. Through the years he learned that the easiest way to get Elliot to spill was when he couldn’t run. Ergo, he decided to ambush him and have a very captive audience for at least three hours.

Reaching the top floor or the half constructed building they were using as an observation point, Hardison made sure to scuff his trainers on the dry concrete to alert Elliot of his presence before venturing into a more visible position.

“I heard you.” Elliot’s voice was low and rough, more than usual. He was exhausted, they both were. The recent heat wave was not an easy thing to stand, especially since they had to carry surveillance 24/7. 

“Cool man, just didn’t want you to break my neck or anything of the sort.”

Elliot snorted.

“That was only once and it was years ago.”

“It was traumatic!” Hardison protested in his best outraged voice. “And it hurt!”

“I barely touched you.”

“You threw me halfway across the room!”

“I did not.” Elliot insisted, his arms folded in his classic annoyed pose. 

“Did too.” Insisted Hardison, getting into the banter. “And it was six months ago, not years!”

Elliot rolled his eyes, but conceded. The hacker did startle him.

“What are you doing here? You have three hours till your shift.” The older man asked, pushing his long again hair back.

Hardison winced and dropped his messenger bag before starting to dig through it.

“Hardison?” For a usually gruff man, Elliot could read moods like nobody’s business.

With an oddly heavy feeling in his chest Hardison took out the thin folder he used to pass portfolios to the team.

“Remember that guy you had me keep tabs on? The sniper?”

Elliot nodded and made a go on gesture but Hardison hesitated. Frankly, since the first time Elliot had him check up on the man named Carlos Alvarez as a personal favor, Alec had wondered. There was something strange in Elliot’s request. So he dug a little deeper and found out that the man was an active Army sniper, very deep into Special Forces, with black ops assignments littering his service record everywhere. He managed to get a few pictures of a very handsome, lithe man with Mexican roots and... not much else. His files were rather heavily protected, with CIA fingerprints all over so he merely skimmed. Frankly looking at Elliot’s manner and the way he asked for the info, Alec thought that the guy was an ex-lover of their favorite hitter.

He extended the file, hesitating. Elliot furrowed his brows in that classical way of his that signified a lot of pain for people it was directed at and snatched the file from Hardison. He flipped it open, eyes scanning the text quickly. Hardison knew instantly the moment he caught the most important part, because Elliot froze, becoming still like a statue.

“I’m sorry man. We were busy and I wasn’t really checking my web crawlers as often as I should…”

“What happened.” Elliot’s voice was low, very low but not raspy. It was smooth and it sent shivers down his spine because Hardison did recognize it. He swore he could almost taste the chlorine in his mouth and smell in the air, the memory was so powerful. The last time he saw that particular expression and tone of voice was in that thrice damned pool where Elliot Spencer met his long time employer Damien Moreau.

“He and his whole unit were declared dead six months ago. Some kind of black ops mission because it’s classified as fuck. There’s almost no paper trail so I couldn’t really get more. His team’s helicopter was shot down, everyone was reported dead.

The hitter said nothing, just stared at the file in his hands but Hardison doubted he even saw it any more.

“I’m sorry?” The younger man ventured tentatively, not really sure what to do. “Was he a… friend?”  
Elliot closed his eyes and let the file fall from his fingers.

“Are you sure he’s dead?” The hitter asked roughly.

“I... there’s no sign of him or his team. None of their families were contacted, none of their known aliases have been used, their bank accounts all have been closed... if he’s alive, I have no proof.”

Elliot clenched his fists, obviously fighting some strong emotion. Hardison wanted to help, wanted to know what to do, but he was at a loss, because this show of emotion frankly terrified him.

“Was he a friend of yours?”

“No.” God, but the hitter sounded wrecked. “He was my victim.”

Alec mouthed the words back, but he still didn’t understand.

“Like you stole from him?” He ventured uncertainly but even he understood that Elliot felt no shame from stealing or beating up people who knew how to defend themselves.

“Elliot, just what did you do?”

The hitter’s mouth twisted bitterly and his eyes had that half crazy look that made people back down without a single threat from the man.

“The poor sod had the misfortune to be on a team that tried to take down one of Moreau’s compounds while I was still in charge of his security.” Elliot started talking suddenly, his voice so alien Alec immediately regretted asking. “He was the only one to survive the firefight. He took down thirty five of the security men before they finally gassed him out of his nest. I let the remaining guards have a go at him for a few weeks before I stepped in. By the time I was finished with him he probably wished he’d put a bullet in his brain while he still could.” Elliot met Hardison’s eyes with vicious intensity. “Things I did to him…” he laughed, a bitter, horrible sound. “I scared myself out of working for Damien. It wasn’t long after that, that I broke off from Moreau and started doing only retrievals.”

Elliot stopped talking and Alec didn’t really know what to say. He really didn’t want to have any visuals of what exactly Elliot did but he also knew that Elliot did this thing from time to time where he tried to scare them away from him. Like he was some kind of monster that would kill them all. Yes, Alec knew he reacted badly to the whole Damien Moreau revelation, that he forgot just who Elliot was in favor of the man he was with the team but since then he’d come to grips with Elliot’s past, with his sheer ability for destruction. He’d reconciled with the knowledge that the hitter could be extremely violent, but he also knew the man had really changed.

“Why did you keep track of him?” the hacker asked, coming closer and putting his hand on Elliot’s arm, feeling the muscles there tremble. 

The hitter looked at him, and his eyes softened marginally, his stance relaxing just that little bit.

“As long as he was alive, I had hope I could find a way of paying him back somehow. Making it up. Something. Anything.” His voice was barely a whisper.

Hardison couldn’t hold himself back any more. He pulled the other man into a hard hug, feeling his body tense and radiating misery, unwilling to accept comfort.  
“Shit man, I know you, we all did some bad shit in the past. I promise I will dig deeper, that I will help you find anything that could help okay? If there’s anything to find, I will find it. So just... you know, remember you’re not alone anymore. None of us is.” 

The night was quiet around them, the construction site barely illuminated. Elliot didn’t acknowledge Hardison or the embrace, but neither did he push the younger man away.

 

The end  
14-04-2013


End file.
